Reconciliation
by AppropriateLlama
Summary: After the Purge of the Colonial Assassins, one of the last survivors meets with Shay. Brief ShayCormac/OC. Oneshot.


**Reconciliation**

 **A short one-shot, briefly Shay/OC, set after the Purge of the Colonial Assassins.**

* * *

It felt like years had passed since they'd last seen each other, scaling walls and buildings and blending into the darkness of the night. In truth, it'd probably been years since they had been in such proximity alone. Several years had passed since their first encounter — back when she was wearing yellow and he a dusty blue. She could still remember how his hair was shaggy and shorter, flopping around his forehead. She remembered when his face was less stern, with much more stubble.

"Shay."

"Maura."

His voice was deeper than she remembered. She was filled with a mix of emotions — how long had she wanted to see Shay again? How many times had she hoped for something she couldn't quite describe? But, then again, here was the Assassin Hunter. He was single-handedly responsible for the decimation of an entire chapter of the Brotherhood. He cut down his old friends like weeds. He betrayed them by aligning himself with their oldest enemies.

"Why did you let me live?" she asked. She was one of the only ones left, besides Achilles. Anybody who didn't flee to Europe or to the south (and there were barely a handful that could) found themselves dead. Achilles was crippled — somehow, she knew that was Shay's doing, the fact that he was still alive, though the mentor did not say as such.

Shay remained in shadow, and Maura had to squint to see him. He had yet to respond. Going against her training, she lifted her face out of the darkness, into the moonlight. It wasn't the smartest move in terms of stealth. There were still many who would hunt her. But here was Shay, and she needed him to answer her. He needed to see what it meant to her.

"Shay, I don't want to fight you," she said. "I only want to talk."

She could just make out the lines of his silhouette. She wanted him to show himself like she had, but she could be patient. She had waited a long time to confront him, after all.

"You were never like them," he finally answered. She knew that. He had said it multiple times before.

"But I am an Assassin, Shay." Maura knew she must have looked forlorn. There was a pause, and Maura collected herself. "Have you seen a rain approaching?"

She couldn't see his expression, but she almost felt the question in his stare.

"I've seen it many times, standing on the rooftops. It's not the same as watching a cloud move. You see the rain falling in the distance, stopping at some invisible line. Even though you can see it, you're still dry. And you just watch it draw nearer and nearer. You don't even notice when it starts raining on you. You were too focused on watching the rain to see it hit."

Maura approached him, slowly, her eyes looking out at the city. She stopped, turned her body, and sat on the ledge.

"We work in the dark to serve the light," she said, quoting her creed. Her attire was of a simple gray tunic and breeches, boots up to mid-calf, and a black hooded jacket. The standard, stealth-focused Assassin outfit — not that the Colonial Assassins were very good at keeping a low profile, what with the gangs and flags. In the light of the moon, she lowered her hood. "I am tired, Shay."

The Templar cautiously approached her, stepping into the light. "What is it you wanted?"

Maura looked over her shoulder at the man. "I wanted to see you, Shay."

Shay deposited himself next to her on the ledge, looking forward although her eyes were trained on his face. "You would risk your life?"

"I don't have much of a life anymore," she said cavalierly. "I've done what I can for the Brotherhood. Now they're all dead. Tell me the truth, Shay. Why did you let me live? I can't imagine Haytham would have advised it."

Shay sighed. "I remembered our last conversation at the homestead." He looked away, as if remembering. "You weren't convinced about the Brotherhood. I was surprised back then, lass, that you had your doubts — even before I did. I thought…you might understand."

As it turned out, she did. "Achilles told me about your disagreement, all those years ago — why you left the homestead, the Precursor sites, the box. He told me all of it. You were right all along."

Shay waited, knowing there was more.

"I had always wondered what happened to you. But none of that explains why you became a Templar. You could've sought out other chapters of the Brotherhood. I can't imagine you were so moved by resentment that you would seek out our enemies."

"No, I hadn't intended to fall into their ranks," he replied truthfully. "But the Assassins — my people at the time — attacked me, tried to _kill_ me, for doing the right thing. I was injured, left for dead, and found by a Templar. I had my suspicions, but I didn't care to investigate. I owed them my life."

"I was away during all that," Maura said quietly, regretfully. "I wish…I wish I could've been there to help you. I would've trusted your word."

Shay placed a gloved hand over hers, almost startling her. She turned her hand and laced their fingers together, as if trying to show him how much it hurt her that she wasn't there.

"So you felt like you owed them?"

"Aye, I did. I would've died without their help. They began to trust me, and I helped them with small jobs. Somewhere along the way, our interests aligned and I was formally inducted." He paused for a beat, considering if he should continue. "I don't regret it. They helped me stop the Assassins from needlessly killing thousands more innocents."

Maura remained silent, pensive. She looked away, into the breeze. His story made sense. She believed him. It was just…complicated. She struggled to find a different word to describe their predicament, but she faltered. It was merely complicated, and certainly ridiculous if it weren't so life-threatening.

"What about you?" he asked. "Where are you with the Assassins?"

"Me?" If she didn't know any better, she would've thought he sounded almost hopeful. "After I was initiated, they kept sending me on smaller missions here. I think I only boarded a ship once. I spent most of my time tailing people. They knew I wasn't a fan of assassinating targets. Even then, I still had to take care of a few low-profile ones. I never had the chance to go adventuring like I thought I would. I think they were too cautious, worried I might run into you and you would sweep me away."

Shay couldn't help the smile that had begun to etch itself into the corners of his mouth. Maura looked up at him and, in a moment of incredulity, let out a chuckle.

"Look at us," she laughed. "An Assassin and a Templar, getting along."

Shay really did smile this time, his dark eyes boring into hers. Before he could regret it, he brought his head down and pressed a kiss to her mouth.

Maura would've liked to have said she reciprocated with reckless abandon, but, in fact, she pulled away rather quickly.

"Don't you think that's a little conspicuous?" she asked, in a voice higher than her usual. It was not without the trace of a smile.

"Aye, lass." Shay smirked, and the expression reminded her of years ago. Her heart thrummed. "I've still got the _Morrigan_ , if you still want an adventure."

Maura's eyes lit up. "Don't tempt me."

"What else is there to do?"

* * *

 **This is actually an excerpt taken from a larger piece of work I've been writing for a little while. I wrote/am writing it in scenes, so they don't always fit together. This was probably the second scene I wrote and, after filling in a good amount of the middle parts, this no longer fits their characterization. I figured I might as well upload it for people like me who absolutely adore our Irish teddy bear, Shay Patrick Cormac, but can't find much writing on him here.  
**

 **AppropriateLlama**

 **xx**


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